


Redemption

by Nairec



Category: Leverage: Con Artists (TV 2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29270736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nairec/pseuds/Nairec
Summary: When Eliot gets hurt on a job, he forms an unlikely alliance with his nurse. When she needs the help of his team,  he finds himself breaking all his rules.
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Eliot**

_The life drains from the grey eyes of my opponent, though he's a skilful fighter, he's no match for me. As I pull the knife from out of his chest, his eyes swirl and I see a hint of recognition there. Widening my stance in a bid to get ready to strike, I bring back my fist, and as the man before me raises like a phoenix from the ashes, I jerk awake_.

A soft hand grazes my forearm and acting on pure instinct I grasp it tightly. I twist and turn the figure beside me and move my arm around the assailants throat. As my eyes focus on the brightness of the room that surrounds me, the helpless, high pitched yelp that my attack induces has me releasing the assailant immediately. My eyesight settles against the bright lighting, revealing the face of a young women dressed in green scrubs. She hushes me like one would a wild animal and tells me where I am, and the realization hits me that I am in hospital. Taking a deep breathe I lean back into the bed noticing how my arm throbs at the exertion.

I stiffen as the woman before me slips her hand into her scrubs pocket and as I move once again to brace for an attack, she raises her free palm in a placating gesture before pulling her hand out of her pocket and revealing my earbud. She places it in my hand closing my fist around the small device.

"You're in Alice Springs Hospital, they said to give you this"

I nod and immediately place the earbud inside the canal of my ear, settling back against the pillows behind me. When I speak, my voice is even more gruff than usual.

"What the…"

"Hey El! How you are feeling?" Parker chimes in but she is swiftly cut off by Nate

"Eliot you were shot in the chest and needed surgery. We had no choice" He tells me, referring to my no hospitals rule. "By the way your alias is Eliot Crane"

"You're welcome" Hardison quips.

I grunt in response, watching the young nurse who checks my stats on the machine beside the bed and takes about adjusting my drips.

"Elliot be a good patient and rest up. We'll be by later to see you, and NO trying to escape you silly sod" Sophie berates me, the lilt in her accent making a smile tug at my lips

"I hear you" I grumble, beginning to feel the throbbing in my chest where I had taken the bullet, a sign my meds are wearing off. Good. I hate the damn stuff, makes me woozy and nauseous. I remove the earbud and as the nurse finishes up and adjusts my pillows, I see the bruising starting to swell upon her wrist. My face crumbles at the how I've hurt her, but before I can tell her how sorry I am, she breaks my brooding silence, seeing where my gaze is fixed.

"It's alright, they told me that you might do that. Said that you were hyper aware from being in the forces. I shouldn't have got so close; it's just you were dreaming, and I thought you were going to pull your stitches" I don't reply. My throat feels tight so I lift my lip up into a slight smile. "My brother was in the army." She continues. "He uh, never made it home, but before that he used to be like you"

I open my mouth to offer my sincerest apologies but somehow the way she looks at me, it's like she can read my mind, like the words don't have to form, she already knows. She places her soft slender hand on my comforter covered leg, offering me a smile that is so innocent and removed from my life and what I do, that it makes my breath catch in my throat. With a little wave and a promise to return, she leaves the room.

* * *

I awake with a roar of pain and a tugging at my chest where I've been shot. I struggle between asleep and awake, forcing away the nightmares that I've been dealing with for what seems like an eternity. I hear her voice like a whisper on the wind; she's hushing me again. She's not touching me I notice, and I'm glad after the last time. When my eyes focus and the nightmares fall away, I see her hovering over me, her eyes pleading, and I know she's asking to touch me.

"It's a'right sweetheart" I choke, giving her the most confident nod, I can muster.

"You've torn your stitches Eliot" She scolds "Can I take down your gown?". I appreciate her hesitance. I need the control and it's like she knows it. I pull myself carefully into a sitting position and sit forward so she can untie the gown at the back; pulling it down my chest to reveal my dressings. She stills for a moment, taking in my battle worn body and I watch with interest as she scans each scar, each blemish. As she pulls her stare away I settle back against the pillows bracing myself for her invasion but her touch is deft and confident. She pulls back the dressing and I inhale slightly as it tugs at my wound.

"Can I at least get your name before you start prodding at my chest?" I drawl and she smiles heading over to the trolley of supplies.

"April" She pauses, looking towards me a breath-taking smile appearing across her face "I'm Banano's God daughter so you're safe here. Your team made sure of it" She adds, turning her attention back to the supplies.

"Pleased to meet you darlin" I cough and she rolls her eyes as she returns with a dish full of dressings, surgical thread, and what looks like a vial and needle. She pulls the vial and needle from the pile, placing he rest on the bed beside me "No" I rasp "No pain relief"

"Elliot don't be a hero. Why take the pain if you don't have to?" She replies. I place my hand over hers that grasps the bottle.

"No"

She freezes seeing the determination in my eyes, and instead of being intimated or afraid as I expect, she rubs her hand over my knuckles her eyes not wavering from me for a second.

"What? You think that you deserve the pain? Because what? Its Penance for what you've done?. Well you don't"

A breath catches in my throat, how in the hell can she read me so easily? Not much scares me, but her understanding me like this. It's terrifying. I feel my nostrils flair at the effort to keep my features schooled but I bet she can see right through that too.

"And don't think I haven't noticed the painkillers in the drawer that you didn't take earlier" She adds for good measure, threading the surgical needle and placing it to one side. "You'll get in me in trouble"

"They make me nauseous" I offer in explanation. That and like she said it's my penance.

"And the pain doesn't?" she retorts with mirth.

"You're a right smartass, you know that?" I growl and she laughs as she carefully cleans up the blood around my wound, her slender fingers grazing the taught area surrounding the bullet hole. She applies a little iodine and positions herself ready to sew the first stitch.

"Ok ready?" My hands grip the metal hospital issue bed frame, my knuckles slowly turning white from the exertion and through gritted teeth I hiss the word ready.

"She pulls and tugs and I breathe through the pain. She's gentle and methodical and within seconds she stands to admire her handiwork. When she replaces the dressing over my stitches, she grazes the crook of my neck with her hands and I hope she doesn't notice the flinch of desire that ripples through me.

"Done. I'll get you a clean gown" she offers and after depositing the hospital waste and cleaning up she leaves the room.

When April returns I am standing, propped up against the bed, one leg into a pair of sweatpants that Sophie had packed into my overnight bag. I quickly pull at the waistband gathering the material to cover my exposed genitalia and stare guiltily like a deer caught in headlights. I expect to be scolded but instead she leans against the doorjamb smirking.

"What?" I growl

"Nothing, go on, don't let me stop you" She taunts, knowing full well that I am struggling and hadn't contemplated how to get around the canula in my ankle. I wobble slightly and putting down my left arm to steady myself jars the bullet hole in my chest. I let out a groan and April hurries to my good side giving me the support I need. While I continue to do my best to cover my modesty with the free pant leg, April unclips the canula feeding my antibiotics. As I pull down the pants to step my second foot in, I find I am grateful that April has had the decency to turn her head to allow me some privacy. When the pants are fully on, I sit back leaning on the bed behind me, inhaling deeply.

"Couldn't have let me get you a gown could you" She berates, and I can't help the uptick in my lips in response. I can't find it in me to explain but I don't have to she immediately calls me on it.

"I know you probably need to feel like you are prepared and ready for anything that comes your way and being dressed is a part of that. That somehow it makes you feel like you can flee at any moment, but you could have done that in the gown. Plus think of the distraction you could have created with that hiney hanging out the back" She snorts, and I can't help but huff out a laugh at her brashness and her undeniably cute humour. I smile, a genuine flirty smile; something I haven't done for some time and she kneels down at my side to connect the canula back in place, but before she does, she looks up me a glint in her eye. "If I thought I could trust you to take your antibiotics you'd have been off this drip yesterday"

"Just the painkillers I have a problem with" I rasp, and she tilts her head a little in understanding. "Ok so how about we take this off then and we go for a walk, get some fresh air, and we'll see about getting you some tablet antibiotics"

I can't think of anything that I want more in this moment and my relief at leaving this room is palpable.

"Yes please" I utter and internally cringe at the desperation in my voice.

"Just don't go trying to ditch me and escape. All being well you should be out of here day after tommorrow anyhows so just behave for one more day. Got it?"

I chuckle "Yes Darlin"

April picks up a sling from the chair beside my bed and helps me hook it around my neck, sweeping my long hair to the side so she can loop it round carefully without jostling my arm. The gentle scrape of her nails at the back on my neck coupled with her face just millimetres from mine has me forcing myself to curb my self-control. Her sweet breath puffs across my chin as she adjusts the strapping and gently lifts my arm into the sling. Her hair smells like lavender and as she turns just slightly, I notice a tattoo just behind her ear; a semi-colon.

I raise my good arm and against my better judgement I graze the tattoo with my thumb forcing her to freeze. I hesitantly push a stray hair behind her ear and taking a step back, I open my mouth to apologise, fearful that I've crossed a line. But she just smiles and with her thumb and forefinger cupping my chin she says "It's a symbol associated with mental health. It represents continuance. Authors usually use the semicolon when they choose not to end their sentence. I am my own author and the sentence is my life, and I'm choosing to continue. My story is not over. And neither is yours" She taps my cheek affectionately and then grabs a t-shirt from my bag and slips it over my head. It sits lightly over my sling, and I slip my good arm through. Once dressed she takes my good hand encouraging me to follow her to the door, and completely in awe of this women in front of me, I follow, doing anything else is not an option.

As we reach the door, she grabs a crutch that is leant against the wall in the corner and releases my good hand slips it under my arm. "Ok?"

"Damn perfect" I reply, and I follow her out to the hospital gardens we spend the afternoon talking about nothing and everything. She tells me about the reason behind getting the tattoo; the loss of her parents, and she asks me about the tattoo I have on my calf; A Wolf. I tell her about my Cherokee heritage, and as we drift into a comfortable silence I absorb the heat of the afternoon sun that beats down on us.

I am broken from my reverie by four familiar voices. It is when one cuts in louder than the others that I open my eyes.

"Hey M'man!" I turn and Hardison grabs my hand into our signature, brother like handshake and I can't help but smile at him. "Okay, freaky, April what have you done to him? He onsummin?" He asks rotating his finger in a 'is he tripping?' gesture

"No" I interject I am just happy alright. Is that such a crime?"

Parker hugs me from behind and I wince slightly

"No not a crime, just we are used to raaaah grumpy Eliot" She gesticulates the raaah like a lion and I huff in amusement.

"Just glad that you idiots are safe is all"

Nate silently rests a hand on my good shoulder while Sophie places a kiss on my cheek and I sit back and listen to welcome sound of my team chatting amongst themselves, relaxed in the knowledge that they are safe and sound.

* * *

I wake the following morning in a blissful haze. I try to recount the last time I awoke without having a nightmare and wonder how I managed to stave the monsters away last night. I turn to the right of me and April is sat in the chair beside the bed, her head resting at an ungodly angle, her chest rising and falling with each sleepy breath. I watch in awe as on each exhale her lip trembles and I find it one of the most beautiful sights I have seen for some time. Her green scrubs have slipped slightly with the way she rests in the chair and her shoulder is almost exposed. I stare longingly at the exposed area of flesh surrounding her neck, the pale skin a sight to behold.

I check the time, confused that April is still in this room and it occurs to me that I haven't seen her leave to tend to any other patients during her shifts since my admission. As I pull myself upright the grunt of exertion that leaves my lips has April stirring in her seat.

"Hey there sleeping beauty" I tease and she yawns before giving me her widest toothiest smile.

"Morning sunshine, You are looking better. Let me take your stats and I'll get you some breakfast" She says, waggling a bag on the table beside her. I say nothing but the raise in my eyebrow is enough and she relents immediately "Cordel's Deli fruited toast. Breakfast in this place sucks"

I snort in acknowledgment, Fruit toast is one of my favourite breakfast items and I find myself wondering if its coincidence as I sit on the edge of the bed, I watch with anticipation as April takes my blood pressure, heart rate and temperature.

"So do you have any other patients, and do you sleep in their rooms too?" I joke, following up with a wink for good measure.

"Nope. Just yours. I have been assigned as your personal nurse until you leave, special orders from the Portland Police Department." She winks as she says Police Department and I know she is referring to Banano. I mentally tell myself to thank him when I leave. To say that April has made this bearable would be an understatement of the greatest proportions and I find myself admitting that I am going to miss her when I go.

When April has recorded my information, she makes her way to the nurses station down the corridor and returns with two plates and a fresh jug of water. She fills two plastic glasses and then lays the toast out on the table between us. The little plastic cup filled with meds doesn't go unnoticed beside them and I stare them unwavering at the feel of Aprils gaze on me.

"You want me to turn away so you can squirrel away those painkillers?" She quips, and I smile at her teasing tone before thumbing the white capsules from the pot and adding them to my ever growing collection before knocking back the antibiotics.

"You keep them" April states, gesturing to my stash. "Why?"

I look at her blankly, wondering if she knows already and wants to hear me say it. Pondering my response I take a bite of the buttery toast, relishing its sweet flavour and as she watches me eat I assume she takes my silence as confusion because before I can answer she continues "You won't take them but you won't throw them away. You're keeping them but I can't figure out why"

"That's your thing, figuring me out. You're slacking" I joke, my lips curling into a smile.

"Well" She thinks, her eyes looking to the ceiling, the toast standing upright between her thumb and fore finger. She takes a bite then brings her eye line back to me "You're saving them for someone else. I just can't figure out who"

I smile at her astuteness. I knew from the moment she asked that I would tell her. I trust her, I just wanted to tease her a little, make her work for it. I take a moment to savour the last piece of my toast taking a tissue from the box beside me to wipe my fingers and look back toward my stash, before staring her down. She straightens ready for my response and she waits patiently to hear what I have to say.

"They are for no-one in particular. I just like to keep them, in case one of my team gets hurt. I don't like to see them in pain and that stuff is better than the over the counter alternatives"

I watch for her response and her smile says it all. She stands from her plastic hospital issue chair and pushing the table from between us she moves my hair from the side of my face

"You are good man Eliot" I don't believe her for a second but I like the sound of the words on her lips. Her fingers play for a second with the greasy tresses of my scalp and she looks towards the bathroom. "Think you're ready to take a shower?"

I can't help the smile that breaks across my face at the suggestion, partly because the thought of the hot water soothing my skin sounds incredible and partly because I can't stop my mind from going to a place that involves April naked in there with me. Before I can consider the latter thought more thoroughly, April bends over to grab my overnight bag from the floor. I inhale deeply, simultaneously berating and adjusting myself in equal measure and when she turns back to me, I think for the first time in my life I blush as she clearly notices my reaction. With a naughty twinkle in her eye she hands me my bag.

"There's only enough room in there for one Cowboy. Give me shout when your done and I'll redress that wound"


	2. Chapter 2

**Eliot**

_I yell for Parker, she doesn't respond. In quick succession Hardison lets out a guttural sob followed by a shout for help. I move towards their last known location, April's hand in mine as she tails behind me. I feel the tug before I hear the scream and just like that April is being pulled away from me. I can't see by whom, it's just a figure, dark and oozing evil. I hate the fact that I'm torn between helping my friends and helping April. Before I even get the chance to react upon the need for a decision, I realize my hands are suddenly restrained, I can't move them. With another dark figure appearing in front of me I try to kick out, but I realize my feet are also shackled. I arch and growl, yelling to be let free, screaming for April and then I wake up with a gasp._

I am covered in a thin film of sweat. I bring my breathing under control and I try to move. I absorb my surroundings, taking in every detail and I instantly recognise the hospital room.

I close my eyes and will my heart to stop clattering against my chest, making the wound I have there throb with every beat. The pounding in my chest is increased tenfold when my arm jolts as I make a move to brush my hair from my face. Dread fills me at an unprecedented rate as it dawns on me that my wrists are stuck to the bed.

I try to clear my mind of the torturous images that filter in, memories of past times that I have been restrained and made to suffer in ways that make me feel nauseous to recall. I move my legs and they too are restrained. What the hell? Absorbing the ache in my chest and gritting my teeth I fight against the manacles. They loosen but I'm not at my full strength and just for a moment to catch my breath, I relent.

Just as I am about to shout for April, an older, rounded woman enters the room, her scrubs a little too tight around her middle. He grey hair is tucked behind her head in a bun that matches her dim and narrowing grey eyes.

"Morning Solider!" she greets me, her voice stern and full of purpose. I struggle again hoping to further loosen the strapping holding me to the bed and she tuts.

"Where the hell is April?" I growl at her and she eyes me for a moment. "And get me the hell out of these restraints?" I grunt.

"April called in sick, so you got me, and I've treated people like you before, so you be nice, and I'll consider it" She gestures to my restraints.

Evil nurse goes about the morning routine blood pressure and dressing checks and it doesn't escape my notice that she doesn't have the bedside manner or the tenderness that encompasses April.

I grunt at her rough demeanour, taking the time to consider April's absence. She was fine yesterday and I remember the way she stroked my forehead free of hair yesterday before dragging the tips of her fingers across my knuckles as I fell asleep. I remember her chirping that she would see me in the morning to help me get ready for my discharge.

Something feels off, I don't know what but, as Hardison would say my 'spidey-senses' are on alert. I am broken from my reverie by April's replacement placing down a paper cup with my meds on the cabinet beside me and she eyes me for a moment. I know what she's doing, seeing how I react, so I relax and paste on my best smile.

"I'm sorry Ma'am" I drawl in my most polite southern accent "I think we got off on the wrong foot here. I would never intentionally hurt you. I swear. Scouts honour"

Considering the situation for a moment she carefully undoes one hand and I take the meds carefully taking the antibiotics but doing my grifter best to hide the painkillers as has become my daily routine. She takes the empty meds cup, seemingly unaware of my sleight of hand and hands me a plastic cup of water to chase it down and I relish how cool it feels against my throat. When she turns her back, I stealthily undo the strapping on my other arm and cover myself with the comforter, so she doesn't notice. As she makes for the door, she turns

"Doctor will be around later to see about discharging you, though by your heart rate and blood pressure I wouldn't hold my breath Soldier"

My nostrils flair in response. What the hell does she expect she tied me to the bed without my knowledge prompting my PTSD to resurface. The second she leaves the room I force myself upright and undo the straps at my feet. Swinging my legs around off the edge of the bed I plant them firmly on the floor and stand, rolling my shoulder and neck to alleviate the stiffness of slumber. My bad shoulder protests violently but I ignore it reaching for my sling, a t shirt and my Levi's. Packing up everything else into my overnight back and slipping on my boots, I limp towards the door.

I watch out for evil nurse and satisfied that she is distracted on rounds, I make it to the nurse's station and demand that I want to discharge myself against hospital advice. Having the mind to scrawl a fake signature for my alias across the form I stalk towards the elevator and once inside breathe out the sigh I didn't know I was holding. Taking my burner out of my pocket I dial Hardison and await his annoying chatter at the other end. It takes a while to connect, even Hardison's hacking skills can't bypass the terrible reception inside an elevator shaft, and when he answers I am not disappointed.

"Hey M'man. How's it going? We'll all be stopping by later to break you out brother" he quips knowing today is supposed to be my last day in the hospital.

"I broke out already" I retort with a slight sense of achievement as I wait for the rush of people pushing past me to get through the open doors of the elevator.

I make my way outside before speaking again. "Do you have a number for April?"

Hardison sounds thrown by my question.

"Can't you ask her yourself?, I'm not a glorified dating agency"

"Dammit Hardison" I growl "She's called in sick today. I just wanted to check she's alright, plus I think she has my earbud"

"Yeah we got her to pocket it every night and give it back to you every morning, we didn't want it falling into the wrong hands if you catch my drift. Hang on one sec.." I lean against the red brick wall inhaling the fresh air as I listen to Hardison tapping away at his computer and I wonder what is taking him so long.

"Um Eliot"

"Yeah?" I grimace, the pain in my chest flowing through my voice.

"I just tracked your earbud and its twelve blocks away in Portland General Hospital"

I hang up the phone and hail a taxi. When one pulls up to the kerb I hurry as fast as my injured body will allow, each step jarring my broken ribs and the arm that pulls heavily on my wounded chest. Throwing my bag into the trunk I growl my destination to the driver and take up residence in the back seat of the rented vehicle.

My eyes drift shut on the drive to Portland General Hospital. My mind swarming with scenarios as to how my earbud is in its current location. If April was sick wouldn't she have come to Alice Springs memorial? It doesn't make sense. I take a breath and try and to refocus my mind, maybe evil nurse got it wrong, maybe there's a perfectly sound explanation but I know by the way that my hairs are on end that something's not right. Before I can ponder it any longer my phone rings. Glancing at the screen I see it's Hardison and grunting I answer the call. He doesn't greet me he just rattles off everything he's found out in the last ten minutes and I appreciate his directness.

"I hacked the hospital records and April was admitted last night after a mugging. When I compared that to the recordings of the 911 calls last night something doesn't add up." Hardison pauses as though he's pondering the information "According to this she was mugged within walking distance of Alice Springs but they took her to Portland General."

I reply, conscious of the driver within earshot. "Ok, can you.." and before I can finish Hardison reels off her location at the hospital even down to her bed number. I love this guy, not that I would ever admit it "Thanks, I'll call you when I know more"

When we pull outside the large medical facility I reach and take twenty bucks from my jeans and hand it over to the driver telling him keep the change. I grab my bag from the trunk and look up at the signs that seem to be dotted about trying to find the best place to start in the hospital. I spot the main entrance and catching a glimpse of my appearance in the window of one of the buildings beside me I wince. I grab a hair tie from my bag and a brush and wrap up my hair before pulling a beanie on top of my head. As I make my way to the revolving doors my phone pings, it's a message. When I open it I see the hospital map clearly indicating Aprils Location. I smile at Hardison's efficiency and make my way to find the woman I have become extraordinarily close to the last few days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi there, just a note to readers that there is a mention of rape in this chapter. Thanks**

**April**

Blinking away the remnants of sleep and the light that blazes through the window just behind me, I stir, stopping swiftly at the sudden ache in my ribs. I turn myself over, the pale blue wall a stark indication that I am in a hospital, then it hits me; I was attacked.

I take a few deep breaths to slow my racing heart but this compounds the pain in my chest and I groan loudly, turning my face towards my pillow. Taking a few moments, I brace myself, slipping my one good hand on my side just under my casted arm, as I attempt to sit. The movement is slow and calculated, and as I have eyes only for my medical records that are hung at the end of my bed, it comes as a complete shock when a voice sounds beside me.

"Hey there sleeping beauty"

I'd know that gravelly voice anywhere and I can't stop the smile that adorns my face in response. I turn to face him and he's stood in the corner of the room to the left of the bed looking out of the four storey window.

"Cowboy" I respond in kind and he smirks at the nickname. "Shouldn't you be across town waiting for your discharge papers?"

"I discharged myself this morning darlin', didn't care much for your replacement" he replies with a raise of his eyebrow and an uptick of his lips. He moves towards me and takes a seat next to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been mugged, could you hand me my notes?" I ask, relenting at the fact moving is harder than I anticipated. He lifts the clipboard and hands it to me no questions asked and he sits patiently as I interpret the information. As soon as I read that my baby is unharmed I let out the breath I didn't know I had been holding and the release of the pent up anticipation has tears pooling in my eyes. Eighteen weeks ago being a mother was the furthest thing from my mind, but the thought now of losing the child that has been forced upon me has tear stains etching their way into my cheeks. I half expect Eliot to be highly uncomfortable with a crying woman, but surprisingly he remains unmoved aside from his scarred hand that covers mine in comfort. I quickly swipe at my tears before squeezing Eliot's hand and releasing it in quick succession.

"I'm sorry, I'm fine really" I reassure him and he remains stoically silent as I begin to fuss, telling him that he really doesn't need to be here and that I don't need a babysitter. I seem to ramble until Eliot speaks five words that have me frozen to the spot.

"How far along are you?"

I almost choke on his question. How in the hell does he know? and furthermore what else does he know?. I want to tell him to go to hell that it's none of his business, but the concern and warmth that fill his eyes have me swallowing down my words, and instead with my voice small and tentative I murmur in response.

"Eighteen weeks. How?" I don't have to finish my sentence, he knows immediately what I am asking.

"I told the Doctor that you are my fiancé" He doesn't even flinch or look apologetic at his confession and I let out a huff of laughter at the sheer arrogance. My simmering anger quickly dissipates though when Eliot follows up with a twinkle in his eye "I mean I know I'm a little out of your league Darlin' but the doctor seemed to buy it" I square him with a feigned look of offense, hand covering my heart in mock horror.

After a moment Eliot becomes serious again as he asks the one question I would have done anything to avoid.

"Who's the father?"

I look away from Eliot, This is too much, there is so much he doesn't know, that I'm not ready to talk about so I answer him in away that will hopefully end this conversation.

"It doesn't matter"

I immediately sense the increase of tension in the room. From the way Eliot's nostrils flair at my response, his blue eyes ice cold, I know that was not the answer he wanted. He stands abruptly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he paces the floor. He's trying to reign himself in, I can sense it and when he's composed himself just a little he speaks

"It matters April" He's facing away from me but I can see that his frame is tense and when I open my mouth to speak he continues "It matters more than you think. You weren't mugged."

His revelation startles me, my mouth opens and closes several times, before I find the words I have been looking for.

"Eliot, I don't understand" I twist my legs around off the bed and he's beside me in an instant, gesturing for me to stay put. He stands in front of me and as I study him I realise he's struggling with something, whether to touch me or whether to tell me, or both. I touch his forearm lightly, staring him down, begging him with my eyes to tell me what the hell is going on. He glares at my midriff as he speaks.

"You still have your purse and phone" he offers, gesturing towards the bedside table and Hardison found footage of your attack, they were not after what they could get from you."

It takes me a moment, the undertone of anger and helplessness in his voice, the flashes of my attack and suddenly what he is saying becomes very clear.

"They were aiming for my torso" I vocalise, remembering and processing the information "Oh god" my hand flies to my mouth to stifle the sob I can feel rising in my throat. I push myself to my feet, I need to get out of here. I expect Eliot to take a step backwards, but he stands in front of me unmoved. "I uh have to go" I murmur, hoping he will move out of my way but he stands his ground. I stare at him helplessly, tears filling my eyes and with the very little energy and strength I can muster I press my hand to his chest. Instead of moving as I had anticipated his hard skinned hand cups my face, his thumb stroking the apple of my cheek. Its incredibly tender for a man who spends his time as a professional hitter and It makes my breath catch in my throat. Against my better judgement I find myself walking into his embrace being careful of his strapping. His good hand cups the back of my head as he whispers "You're safe darlin'"

* * *

I have insisted that I sit in a chair and not be bound to the hospital bed and so I find myself sat opposite Eliot, my ribs aching and his piercing blue eyes boring into mine. I look down to where his hand is holding mine as he waits patiently for me to give him the name of the baby's father. I play absentmindedly with his fingers, looking at the scarred skin, hardened from years of fighting. I hesitate because I know if Eliot has his way then the father of my baby will be on the receiving end of this hand and I'm struggling to come to terms with the fact that Jaxon would do this. I take a long breath and steady myself before raising my eye line to Eliot's

"He wasn't thrilled when I told him, threw money at me to.." I trail off allowing Eliot to fill in the blanks. His hands tense in mine and I rub my thumb over his "But I can't believe he could be capable of this, that he would go this far"

"What's his name April?" Eliot Growls and I waver.

"I don't want Uncle Patrick or the Police involved Eliot. It's complicated." Eliot says nothing he just raises a brow and waits for me to continue. I use my good arm to stand, I can't look at him not when I tell him how stupid I've been. He doesn't stop me, giving me the space I need and I am undeniably grateful. I move over to the window, my ribs protesting with each step.

"He's my Attending back at Alice Springs, and I could have got kicked out of Medical school, I just wanted to forget it ever happened, but then this" I stroke my hand over my stomach before sneaking a glance at Eliot's reaction and where I was expecting pity or perhaps disappointment I instead see a neutral expression, his features schooled.

"You asked the paramedics to bring you here, and not Alice springs?" He asks as though figuring out the missing piece of a puzzle. I nod in acknowledgment and then I look back out the window hiding the swell of tears behind my eyes, and take about watching the day unfold. The hustle and bustle of a busy hospital spills out onto the street below, the Ambulance bay is filled with three vehicles ready to head out as one shift ends and another begins. There is a woman arguing with a security guard about the cigarette that she is puffing in an undesignated area, her pyjama robe flapping undignifiedly in the breeze.

I am broken from my reverie by the feel of Eliot's figure behind me. He doesn't touch me but he's close enough that I can smell his tea tree shower gel and his breath at my neck as he whispers

"You have my word April. I can help you. You have to trust me."

I swipe at the tears that betray me and turn to face him, reaching past him towards my handbag that sits on the beside cabinet. I try to ignore the fact that my face is millimetres from his shoulder as he stands his ground, seemingly in no hurry to move. I pick up my handbag up and placing it on the window sill beside me, I use my good hand to rifle through its contents. I remove the little plastic baggy containing his earbud from my handbag and hand it to him ignoring the way it feels when his hand innocently grazes mine. With my hand in his, I look up my eyes staring him down as I offer him the two words he wants.

"Jaxon Gray"

He swipes at an errant tear on my cheek with his thumb before retrieving the bud from the baggy, turning it on and placing it in his ear.

"Nate, Hardison? I need everything you have on an attending at Alice Springs Memorial. His name is Jaxon Gray"

* * *

When I open my eyes the following morning I wake to find Eliot still in my room like an obedient guard dog. He's sat in the armchair by the bed and his feet are crossed at the ankle resting on the bed beside me. His head has fallen back and his lips are slightly parted as he softly snores unaware of my waking. I'm not entirely sure what comes over me but sitting forward slightly from my already raised bed position I trace a line down Eliot's socked foot and in response he jolts awake immediately.

"The cowboy is ticklish" I jest and he rubs the sleep from his eyes before levelling me with a glare

"Eliot Spencer is not ticklish"

I laugh at his insistence and quickly change the subject "You don't need to be here you know I'm fine. I've been thinking about it and there are security guards at the hospital and no-one even knows I'm here"

Eliot dismisses my statement "April, you're stuck with me until we figure this out".

I nod in acknowledgment and thanks, as he wheels over a table Infront of me.

"You hungry?" He says and picks up a paper bag from the bedside cabinet before depositing it on the table along with two small bottles of orange juice.

"Cordels?" I ask hopefully, recognising the brown paper bag.

"Yeah someone once told me that the food in these places suck" Eliot's face lights up when I laugh, his eyes creasing at the corners and I find myself enchanted by his lightheartedness.

Eliot opens the bag offering me fruit toast or a croissant and I choose the latter relishing the crumbly buttery goodness between my fingers. We eat in silence but I notice that Eliot spends the whole meal brooding and it comes as no surprise when when he finally does speak it's about Jaxon. I had sensed that he had been mulling something over and I am relieved when he comes out with it.

"Yesterday, you said that you didn't think that Jaxon would be capable of hurting you. What makes you so sure?"

"I didn't say that he wouldn't hurt me" I reply a little too quickly making Eliots nostrils flair and his fists clench in his lap. I push against the wheeled table seperating us and struggle to my feet "I just didn't think he would go this far, he's nothing but a fucking coward" I seethe, my voice getting louder with every consecutive word, and I find myself shaking with the venom behind them.

Eliot takes a step around the table, pushing it aside to get a little closer to me, but he's hesitant, watching my response carefully. My chest is heaving, my ribs aching beyond my control and I rest my good arm against his chest to try and catch my breath. Eliots hand settles affectionately against the side of my face, his thumb grazing my tattoo, his eyes searching mine for clarity, reassurance, both? I'm not sure,

"April, has Jaxon hurt you before?" He asks softly, looking at me like he already has the answer, as though he can see right through me, How in the hell can he read me so easily?

"Eliot, please I..I... 't" is all I can muster. It's too much, and the pregnancy hormones I have flowing freely round my system have tears streaming down my face before I can even begin to compose myself.

"April?" He asks, his tone is more pleading this time, but I can't. It's just too much, I have tried so hard the last few months to forget, to try and make myself believe that I wasn't to blame for what happened and now Eliot is bringing it all back; the guilt, the shame, the helplessness. I turn to try and walk away, but Eliot stops me, his hand resting gently on mine.

My tears subside as my sadness turns to anger; anger directed at Jaxon for what he did, at me for letting it happen, and at Eliot for not letting it go. With Eliot still anchored to me I turn, I pull my hand away from his and push him, hard. But he does not move. I hit the uninjured side of his chest repeatedly, with my good arm, all the while simultaneously trying to hold down the croissant that is threatening to return. Tears now return in the form of sobs that wrack my entire body so much so that I feel like I'm on fire, but I can't stop. Words begin to spew from mouth against my will, specifically the phrase "I told him No" which flows from me like a mantra as Eliot takes hit after hit, until at last he can't take anymore, his injured body relenting at the beating. He wraps his good arm around me and pulls me to him, encasing me in his protective frame. Holding me so tight that I know he'll never let me be hurt again. I feel his arm move up to the back of my head as he places a kiss on my crown.

"I'm so sorry Darlin'" he whispers, "I won't ever let him hurt you again I swear"


	4. Chapter 4

**Eliot**

The screen In front of us flickers, and Hardison clicks his pointer a few times to get it to the right page for starting the briefing,

"Parker, Hey Parker?!" Hardisons yells, and Parker shouts back at him as she skips happily into the living area, taking her seat next to April at the briefing desk. "Mama, have you been messing with my things again? cos you know, I ain't down with that"

Parker ignores him and pats April on the arm, and I watch with pride from my position stood behind them both. There was a time where Parker would have been suspicious, and cold towards anyone new, but she has taken April under her wing and has even taken to planning nursery ideas, much to April's bewilderment.

Just as Hardison is about to start, Nate catches my eye. I know what he's thinking because it's the same thing that has just crossed my mind. I lean down towards April, one hand on her shoulder and as I whisper, my lips graze her ear.

"You sure you want to be here for this?"

She reaches up and rests her hand on mine and nods discreetly. Nate smiles and instructs Hardison to begin.

I watch the briefing, my fists clenched at my side through the whole presentation. Seeing the face of the man that betrayed April on the big screen just makes we want to bury him even more for what he has put her through. My chest aches and I'm not sure if it is from my recovering bullet wound or the knowledge of what April has endured at the hands of this asshole, but either way it makes me wonder if I should be wearing my sling like April told me.

While Hardison reels off Jaxons history and unusual lack of medical school debt, I can't help but be distracted by the fact I am stood so close to April. I can smell her hair, and I catch the feel of the soft cotton of her blouse scraping against my midriff as my t-shirt rides up, when rotating my shoulder. A connection of any type is something I have consciously avoided for so long that I feel like I am fawning over forbidden fruit. I berate myself for losing concentration on the presentation in front of me and realise this hasn't gone unnoticed as I am brought out of my reverie by Parker prodding my side.

"Sorry. What was that?"

Nate clears his throat and eyes me with a look of suspicion.

"So I think we need to find out a bit more about our friend here. April what do you think is his way in? What does he value more that anything else in the world?"

* * *

**April**

Nates question reverberates around my mind, the temperature around me flourishes and I feel incredibly overcome at all the eyes in the room that are on me. I look towards Jaxon staring back at me from the screen and it makes my stomach roil in protest. At first its just a small wave of nausea but I'm taking no chances, there's no way I'm going to hurl in front of Eliot and his team.

Knowing full well that my normal dash to the toilet is now reduced to a slow hobble, I ease myself off of the stool slowly, giving me the time I need to get to the bathroom in case my earlier meal wants to reappear. As my feet hit the floor I wince and before I can move, Eliots hand rests affectionately at my elbow.

"Everything ok?"

"Mm hmmm" I murmur not wanting to speak, as I swallow down another pang of bitterness from the back of my throat. I simply point towards the hall where the bathroom is and make my way gingerly to the door. When I reach the door jamb my stomach finally revolts and I make a dash for the toilet, hovering over it just in time. The retching of my stomach has pain exploding in my ribs, and I try to stop the inevitable but I can't, I know I'm going to hurl again and this time I know the pain that is going to accompany it. The thought sends a shudder through me.

Before the second wave hits me Eliot is behind me one hand grasping my hair into a makeshift ponytail and his other slides around my waist and across my ribs, underneath my casted arm. He tightens his grip when I wretch for a second time and I realise he's bracing my ribs against the pain of the heaving muscles and for that I am extremely grateful as a bolt of agony threatens to rip through me, but is stifled at the last second by Eliot's strong grip.

When my stomach is finally empty. I expect Eliot to let go, but he doesn't. He holds me while I catch my breath.

"Hurling with broken ribs is a killer, been there more times than I can count" he offers, making me a little less embarrassed. I sit back against the bathtub and he sits with me his arm planted firmly around my shoulders.

"You can say that again" I retort in agreement.

I take a few deep breaths and when the nausea has passed, I press my good arm against the wall beside me to steady myself and stand. Eliot loosens his arm around me just slightly

"All good?"

I nod. "Yeah, the joys of being pregnant hey"

Eliot smirks as he lets me go and I feel the sudden loss of heat more than I should. I tingle at the loss of contact and find myself yearning for his touch. I berate myself, turning to flush the toilet and as I turn to the sink to wash my hands I sneak a glance into the mirror In front of me to see Eliot removing something from his pocket. As I turn on the cold faucet to drink down some cool water, I feel him gently taking my hair in his hands and he ties my hair back away from my face. It feels far more intimate than it should. I thank him and he leaves me to freshen up, while they plan out how they are going to help me piece my life back together.

When I return, the briefing has finished, and all eyes suddenly fall on me. There is an uncomfortable silence and Eliot sensing my unease, walks towards me, placing his hand on my elbow, grounding me without even realizing it.

“You ok?” he implores

I nod in response resting my hand on his forearm in confirmation, ignoring the way my body responds to his warmth and strength, before turning my attention to Nate. “Nate you should check Jaxon’s briefcase. He carries it everywhere, won't part with it. That might give you some insight”

Nate nods and gestures to Hardison who works through all the information he has. He pulls up some surveillance photos that were not in the original briefing. “I ignored these photos, dismissed them“ Hardison explains “but our girl here might be onto something, the briefcase is in every one of these”

“What do you think is in it?” Nate asks almost rhetorically.

“Well whatever it is its important enough that he won’t go anywhere without it” Sophie states “I mean its not even that nice. In fact, its utterly hideous. Although” Sophie tapers off walking towards the screen for a closer look “The lock” she points “That’s no standard briefcase lock. He’s definitely hiding something. April do know what’s in there?” Sophie questions

I rub my hands together emphatically, bracing myself and searching desperately for the courage to speak. Elliots hand shifts to my lower back and I feel his long hair tickle my neck and she stoops to whisper in my ear.

“Its ok” He reassures me and from somewhere deep inside me I find my voice.

“I think they might be photos” I blurt shamefully.

“Photos of what?” Parker asks innocently whilst it seems everyone else has already come to the obvious conclusion. Eliot tenses beside me and I catch his wrist in my hand pulling him back from the metaphorical hole I can see he’s looking down.

“He told me he took them of me, of us when he.” I stop not wanting to say more. “And I don’t think I’m the only one” I offer. Eliot’s jaw clenches, I notice his signature tick as he slides his arm around me protectively. I turn into him welcoming his warmth and use his body to shield me from the glares and looks of sympathy from his fellow team.

In the deafening silence Parker suddenly catches on “Oh” is all she manages, shortly followed by a hurried and panicked “We have to get that briefcase Nate”

“Parker, I agree, but if he never leaves it alone it’s not going to be easy.” Nate ponders something before turning his attention back to me “April what about when he’s in work or at the house, he must part with it then?” I lift my head to face Nate.

“He has a safe at work, where he probably stores it”

Parker jumps up excitedly at my information, dancing over to position herself in front of the screen where Hardison is stood “I love cracking safes. Let’s go steal a briefcase!”

Nate stands from his perched position on the stool and asks Hardison as we make our way to the door to get all the information he can on Jaxon’s schedule before turning to Parker.

“And Parker. that was my line”


	5. Chapter 5

**Eliot**

Lucille smells of orange soda and sweat and I make a mental note to force Hardison to clean this van when we return. I will even persuade him by offering to make those little French pastries he likes. I adjust the strapping still supporting my ribs and nod in readiness to Parker who exits the van before adjusting her doctors coat and glasses.

“I like this outfit” she murmurs as she walks away, just loud enough so that we hear her over the comms "Makes me look smarter”

I huff out a small laugh at how sweet Parker is for not realising how smart she actually is. She's street smart and clever in ways that even scare me. Hardison appeases her with his response;

"Yes Mama, you look awesome”.

Parker smiles as she covertly bumps into a doctor near the entrance to the hospital and with the swiftness of a hawk, swipes the ID badge attached to his lapel.

"I’m sorry “ Parker explains before attaching the ID badge to her own lapel. I can see her grin of satisfaction from here as she enters the hospital.

Hardison taps my shoulder. He is ready with his laptop, holding Lucille’s door open for me. I fold down the collar of my janitor uniform before squatting down beside April in the van. “You alright?”

She nods confidently before telling me to be safe and I feel myself finding humor in her response. I do not reply though because I am not going to make a promise that I cannot keep, I will do anything to keep my friends safe, that is what I do. Instead I catch the edge of her chin gently with my thumb telling her to stay with Sophie and Nate, as I exit the van behind Hardison.

The cleaning cart I am pushing is rancid and Hardison moans continually about the smell which I find ironic given Lucille’s special odor. Nevertheless, I push it around the corner of the busy 8th floor, stopping to loiter at Parkers location. I pretend to clean some imaginary spots off the wall as Hardison uses me as cover to use his laptop which he uses to render the office lock inactive. When the light turns green, he and parker sneak in undetected.

“All clear” I murmur into the comms, looking agitatedly for something or someone to hit. But the gods are looking down on us as the area seems busy and people are very much distracted by the high patient numbers on the wards.

“How you guys doing in there?”

“It’s an Amsec CSCC 1913, the guy might as well just hand me the photos.” Parker quips in my ear before telling me to shush so she can work. I pull another rag out of the cart absentmindedly making myself busy and trying my best to blend in. As I pretend to polish the glass window I hear Parker yelp with glee. I know immediately that she is in and has the briefcase. This she tackles just as easily as the safe and within minutes she returns with Hardison to the hallway looking mightily pleased with herself.

“We Good?” I rasp under my breath, one hand coursing through my hair as we all turn to leave.

“Yeah but you really don’t want to see those photos Eliot” Hardison advises, his normal humorous tone gone, but I’m not fully listening. Instead I am watching the security guard that has spotted us.

“Hey!!” he yells before upping his pace in our direction. I tell Parker and Hardison to go. They hesitate and I shout at them this time to leave. We have our leverage and now its my turn to bring my skills to the table, to do what I do best. The guard reaches for his radio calling his colleagues for assistance before reaching for me where I stand waiting and compliant. I step back from him and he stumbles forward. I skillfully retrieve the mop from the cleaning cart and spin it effortlessly like a Kendo stick. The guard straightens himself and makes a grab for me again and this time I block his arm with the mop before throwing an uppercut to the underneath of his Jaw with my free hand. He falls to the ground semi-conscious and I feel myself mildly disappointed with the ease that he crumpled. Nevertheless, I take the moment to flee and make my escape, pulling the trolly over behind me to obstruct any followers.

* * *

We sit back in the briefing area with Sophie’s earpiece feed on loudspeaker. Portland PD had been called to the hospital following our excursion and Nate has persuaded Banano to take Sophie along under the guise of being a cop. Banano had been reluctant at first as Nate had been scarce on details; not wanting to let on that April was involved. Nate had justified the impersonation of a cop to the rest of the team as a way to extract some more information from our target, and if anyone could get what she wants its our Sophie.

I busy myself dicing onions in the kitchen area, the clicking of sophies heels echoing through her comms and Hardison’s sound system. April has wisely taken my advice to get some rest. She and the baby need it, and I am thankful that she will not hear any of the next conversation that filters though the speakers.

The knife slides fluidly through the red onions quickly and with precision and I stop every few seconds to wipe the sting from my eyes.

“Mr White, I’m Detective Banano and this is Detective…” Banano pauses and Sophie introduces herself, a south country accent floating its way through the sound system. Sophie has an extensive catalogue of accents in her playbook and this is by far the most unsettling. “Greenberg, Detective Greenberg, pleasure to meet you Mr. white. We just have a few questions we’d like to ask you if you don’t mind”

“Of course, I have patient rounds so you’ll have to make this quick” he replies with an impatient undertone.

“I understand.” Banano replies, taking the lead. “There was an incident earlier?”

“Yes, someone broke into my office and knocked out a security guard. You really need to talk to the hospital Chief Executive. I’m not sure how much help I can be”

I huff a small laugh of satisfaction at the part about the guard and grab a pan from the cupboard depositing it on the stove, before wiping my hands on the towel over my shoulder. Pulling a few peppers from the fridge I listen intently to more of the conversation.

“You are not concerned about why they broke into your office Mr. White?” Sophie enquires, and I listen carefully for his reply

“No, Maam, there were just some notes missing for a medical conference, nothing of any consequence.”

“Seems like an unlikely item to steal doesn’t Mr. White, some medical notes. Are you sure that was all that was taken?”

“I don’t have time for this I have patients to see. If you have any more questions you know where to direct them”

I imagine Jaxon fumbling and desperate for an exit, and the mere thought of the man getting away makes me slip with the knife nearly missing my finger by a few millimeters. I pick up my comms whispering to Sophie, “Sophie, make him sweat darlin’”

“One more thing Mr. White” Sophie adds, her steely voice, still in character and no hint of a British accent in sight. “You are so young to be such an accomplished doctor with no debt, how is this possible?”

“I really don’t see how this is relevant Detective”

I hear the scraping of a chair followed by Sophies raspy reply “Humor me”

“My Uncle is Governor Bradford, he’s been good to me, although I don’t see what bearing my family connections have on this incident, now if you’ll excuse me detectives”

I stab the knife violently into the chopping board and the handle vibrates. That is our lead. I throw my towel onto the worktop and make my way over to the briefing area where the rest of the team are, turning my attention to Hardison who is tapping away manically on his keyboard.

“Hardison” I growl

“Yeah I’m already on it” he retorts before sliding some information and photographs of the Governor up on to the big screen.

“Uncle Governor Bradford and the elusive nephew. He’s not mentioned Jaxon publicly in any of the media articles. Although looking through his financials, look who withdrew a substantial amount of money out his account the day of Aprils attack”

Rage, that up until know I have been able to suppress, surges through at an unprecedented rate. I’m pretty sure my blood pressure spikes as my injury starts to throb in time with my temple. But I don’t care, I can think only of making Jaxon and his Uncle pay for what they did to April. I let out a low growl that emerges from somewhere deep within me and with my nostrils flared I make my way to the door. Nate steps in front of the door, stopping me in my tracks.

“Nate. Move”

“Eliot, this is not the way, not yet, we stick to the plan”

“Nate” I growl again and suddenly I feel the weight of Parker, who has launched herself at my back. Hardison joins the crusade offering words that bring me back to the present

“No Man, April would not want this”

Its then that I hear April behind me

“April wouldn’t want what?”


	6. Chapter 6

**April**

I don’t know when I fell asleep but when I wake up the curtains are drawn, and I feel more rested than I have in days. There is movement in the briefing area, and my nerves settle at the thought of Eliot and his friends just feet away. My arm aches and itches like mad inside its cast and I use my good arm to prop myself up and sit upright, my eyes scanning the room for something to slip inside my cast to soothe the itch. I take a moment to catch my breath before getting to my feet. Not seeing anything of use I head to the living area following the commotion.

I am pretty sure my eyebrows move of their own accord, surprised by the sight in front of me; Hardison is walking towards Eliot who looks like he is some form of ninja turtle with parker hunched up hanging off his back, and Nate is blocking his way. Hardison with raised hands tells him that ‘April wouldn’t want this.’

“Wouldn’t want what?” I ask concerned, and it is at the sound of my voice they all turn to face me. Parker is still on Eliot’s back her head popping up over his shoulder and her legs firmly attached around his waist. She drops to the floor when she sees me before muttering “Bad Sparky” and sulks off behind me.

“Nothing” Eliot grumbles before heading in the same direction.

I look over at Nate and Hardison mumbles something about needing to leave.

“What was that about?” I ask leaning against the door jamb

“Eliot, I think is feeling a little useless with his shoulder and something tells me he is a little protective of you” Nate offers “We all are” he adds for good measure.

I nod and smile in acknowledgement before turning around to go find Eliot.

* * *

I find Elliot in a makeshift gym down the hall working out his anger on a punch bag hung from the ceiling. I wince at every contact he makes with the bag, concerned for his shoulder and his stitches. I want to tell him to stop that he shouldn’t be doing this. but I sense that part of him needs this, needs to work out the pent-up frustration and energy he has, despite the fact that his wound will undoubtedly need redressing when he’s done.

He grunts and growls, kicking and punching the bag in a slow steady rhythm, his eyes glazed over until each punch gets weaker and weaker as his shoulder relents. He hugs the bag to stop it swinging and I can see by the way he is holding himself he’s done some damage.

“Eliott” I whisper, alerting him to my presence, before walking towards him slowly and cautiously. He looks in my direction and I see his blue eyes brighten, and the dark cloud dissipate as he sees me. I point to his shoulder and his blood-soaked shirt and he touches it tentatively, checking it, as though he is surprised and hadn’t noticed it.

"Can I take a look?” I ask reaching my hand towards him and he nods. As if I drawn to him like a magnet my hand reaches out, but not towards his injury, to his face and my thumb grazes his cheek, pushing away stand of hair that has stuck to his face. “Are you okay?”

My hand stills, absorbing the heat emanating from him.

“uh hmm” He responds with a hint of pain in his voice, as I take his hand to lead him to a chair that is positioned by the window. I ask him where the first aid kit is and he responds by gesturing towards a cabinet in the corner of the room. I rifle though it, collecting some butterfly stiches, iodine, cotton swabs and a clean dressing before returning to where Eliot is sat slumped in the chair.

I hover in front of him, putting the supplies on the window sill and placing a hand on my back to support me as I bend to reach for the collar of his t-shirt. My bump is only small, but my bruised ribs combined with my growing pregnancy are making it difficult to stand for long periods. Elliot notices my discomfort straight away and tells me to wait as he stands and removes his shirt, before sitting back down and gesturing for me to sit on his lap. I pause partly because I think I might actually be blushing and partly because I worry how it will look by obliging so easily. My hesitance yet again doesn’t go unnoticed and it’s as if he can read my mind

“It’s ok” he tells me gruffly “just thought you could rest your back. You don’t have to”

I smile with a slight nod of my head and straddle him, placing my legs either side of his, the denim of his jeans scraping my bare legs beneath my dress. As I bring myself face to face with him, my skin tingles at the barely existent distance between us; if I breathe in deeply enough I’m sure my chest will touch his. I watch entranced by a bead of sweat that trickles down his hairless sternum, only brought from my reverie by the clearing of his throat.

I clean the area carefully, all the while highly aware of my proximity to Elliot, inhaling sharply at his free arm resting around my waist, anchoring me to his lap. He removes it swiftly at my response and apologises if he has made me uncomfortable.

“I don't want you falling or hurting yourself” he says not taking his eyes of my midriff and the swell of my pregnancy.

I grin at his sweet nature. "It's ok, I just I don't want you to think that I, I'm not" Elliott's eyes darken and he cuts me off swiftly

"April. It's ok. I want you to be comfortable so I'll get you another chair"

I press my hand to the good side of his chest, telling him I'm fine before methodically cleaning and attending his injury.

"So are you going to tell me what the little charade was about back there" I ask gesturing to the door as I make the final stitch.

He grunts and I'm not entirely sure if it's at the pain or at my question but I steel him with a glare that lets him know I'm not going anywhere until he lets me know.

He looks past me when he speaks making a conscious effort not to make eye contact

"Jaxon's Uncle is Governer Bradford, He may have been the one responsible for your attack"

I inhale sharply placing the supplies on the tissue on the window sil beside us before taking his chin between my thumb and forefinger and bringing his gaze to mine

"And you wanted to pay him a visit" I finish for him.

He looks at me his blue eyes softening, with perhaps guilt, acknowledgement, shame. I'm not sure. I move my hand to his cheek, pushing his hair from his face.

"Nate said you guys could take him down the right way, pick up where the law leaves off?"

"Yeah" He huffs, all the while remaining stoic, features schooled. I raise myself, press down the new dressing on his chest and deposit the rubbish in the bin, before heading towards the door.

When I reach the doorway, I turn to face him and before I'm out of sight, I throw over my shoulder.

"Then don't sell your soul for me cowboy"


End file.
